


Yes, I Am

by ImaKaraTabiHe



Series: What is "Normal"? [4]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Betrayal, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Loneliness, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, OCD - Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, Reveal, Running Away, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-27
Updated: 2017-02-27
Packaged: 2018-09-27 06:24:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9980261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImaKaraTabiHe/pseuds/ImaKaraTabiHe
Summary: When Len has to leave the city for business, Barry stays with Cisco.  Things start out great, but end up going downhill.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Нет, я псих](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10478784) by [kotokoshka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kotokoshka/pseuds/kotokoshka)



Len watched, eyes cautious as Barry scrubbed his hands for the second time. “So...” He hesitated, unsure of how to bring this up.

“So?” Barry echoed, curiously as he dried his hands on a towel after pausing to think about how long it had been since he replaced it. “What's up, Len?”

Musing silently, Len stepped passed Barry and washed his hands, lathering them with soap. The echoes of Barry's past breakdown, admitting that his 'thing' was OCD was still fresh in his mind, even though it had taken place over a week ago. He dried his hands, hating how his uncertainty was making Barry worry.

“What is it, Len? Is something wrong?” Barry's gut clenched with panic that maybe Len had finally realized how ridiculous Barry was with his OCD problems. Oh, and his anxiety. That was a can of worms that he'd admitted to Len, because when his anxiety was bad so was his OCD. His left hand clenched his right sleeve and his right, his left – he clung to them as his anxiety grew.

“Hey now, Scarlet.” Len reached out, placing his clean, slightly damp hands on Barry's and gently tugged them from his sleeves. “It's nothing really bad, I promise,” he said, catching Barry's beautiful eyes with his own and holding them. “Calm down a bit, okay?”

Barry slowly nodded, taking a deep breath. Len smiled softly and leaned forward, brushing his lips against Barry's in a light kiss. “Good boy.”

“Not a kid,” Barry responded automatically making Len grin.

“I know, Scarlet. I just need to tell you that I have to go away for a few days for work, and I was hoping you could stay with Ramon during that time,” Len steadily told him, watching as Barry's lower lip became a pincushion for his teeth.

“When you say 'work'...” Barry let the words fade.

“Nothing the Flash needs to be called in for,” Len said. “I need to meet with a few people and get some business deals hammered out. No one's going to be hurt.”

Barry sighed, feeling Len's thumbs stroke his chapped hands, though they'd heal soon enough. “Do you have to go?”

“I do have some legal business ventures, Barry,” Len gently told him. “Since the Rogues haven't been pulling as many heists recently, I think ensuring my investments are going well is necessary.”

“Do I have to stay with Cisco?” Barry questioned. It's not like Cisco knew about Len. Yet, anyway.

Len nodded. “I think it'd be best. I know you're not ready for help yet, but keeping all that in isn't healthy.” He let go of one of Barry's hands to cradle Barry's cheek. “He's your friend. He'll respect your boundaries. Don't worry, Scarlet. He won't think you're a freak.” And if he did Len was going to ice him until the world thinks he's the newest, best life-like sculpture.

“Yeah,” Barry bit his lip anxiously. “Sure.”

His eyes looked so big and wet that Len just wanted to say “Fuck it” and forget about leaving, but this kind of business couldn't be done online or through a proxy. He had to be the one to go. “It'll be okay… And if anything happens, I'll come right back, okay?”

Barry's lips twitched in a shaky smile and he squeezed Len's hand. “Okay, Len.”

“You'll call me every day, right?”

Barry nodded obediently. In reality, he wanted to call Len constantly when they were apart. 'Once a day' was too few in his mind.

“Or more,” Len added on, lips curling in a smirk.

Flushing, Barry stuttered, “So, we're cool, right?”

Len chuckled as Barry rolled his eyes at the pun he hadn't expected to make. “Yeah, Scarlet. We're _cool.”_

  


Walking into the Labs the following day was a bit nerve-wracking if Barry could admit. He'd asked Cisco to meet him there after their conversation last night in a text. He wasn't feeling up to really voice his request to meet. Honestly, Barry was a horrible liar when he was emotional.

His thing – 'No, it's OCD,' he corrected himself as he clung to Len's hand. He wasn't ready to see anyone yet about it, but Len had made a good argument for calling it what it is. Barry agrees that facts are facts, so he needs to call it what it is – OCD.

His OCD was making his stomach churn as he heard music coming from the cortex where without a doubt Cisco would be. He tended to enjoy the pop of music while he worked. He also didn't know about Barry's… OCD. How was it going to work out? He didn't want to stay somewhere he had to hide his OCD and feel uncomfortable, wondering 'How clean is that?' and using way too much handsoap for the average person.

“It'll be okay, Barry,” Len murmured as they reached the doorway. They spotted Cisco looking over one of his experiments, body moving with the tune. Len snorted, amused. “If not, I'll ice his mp3.”

Barry chuckled a little.

“Ramon,” Len called out over the music. Cisco was obviously too into it to hear them, his hips swaying. Len grimaced at the sight. 'Now if it was Barry…' He shook his head and called louder this time, watching as Cisco turned with a “Hm?” and froze, staring at the couple.

Cisco fumbled, turning off the music with an anxious flutter in his stomach. “Barry, wh-what are you doing here with Captain Cold?”

“Um...” Barry began, “we came to see you?”

Len looked at Barry, noting the uncertainty in his voice and confidently echoed, “We came to see you about an issue.”

“If you're looking for a cold cannon, I'm fresh out,” Cisco snarked, warily.

Len rolled his eyes. “If I wanted a cold cannon, I wouldn't ask for it. I'd creatively implore to you make me one.” Shrugging, he continued, “But I'm not here for that. I'm here for Barry.”

Cisco's eyes slid over to Barry, concerned. “Are you okay? He's not like holding you hostage or anything? If he is I can so call the Arrow Team and they can come rescue us, because 99% sure he'd kick my ass.”

Barry rubbed his elbow, having let go of Len's hand at the doorway to fidget. “Actually… We're together,” he admitted.

Cisco blinked, confused. “Well, you're standing right in front of me next to each other, so I can see that.”

“No, Cisco, I mean… we're _together.”_ Len's arm snaked around Barry's waist and he leaned into Len, blushing and drinking in the clean scent of the freshly laundered clothes. Len had thrown them on without direction, though Barry wanted to insist that he could handle clothes that had been worn as long as they weren't too dirty, but the sentiment was sweet, and it eased Barry's nerves at the moment.

“You what?” Cisco inquired, dumbfound.

“Scarlet and I are seeing each other in the Biblical sense, Ramon,” Len detailed.

“Oh.” Cisco's eyes narrowed, squinting as if he was looking for some kind of hidden camera. Maybe it was just a joke. Then he noticed the way Barry leaned into Len's touch, how Len's thumb stroked Barry's hip where his hand rested… It was all too intimate to be a lie.

He wasn't sure how this had happened, or whether or not the man was even safe to be around after everything, but Barry seemed happy. The atmosphere around them was soft and loving.

...He still was totally going to get some answers about how the nutmeg this happened. Joe was going to flip.

“Okay,” Cisco nodded slowly. “I'm going to assume this isn't a coming out thing?”

“It's not,” Len agreed. “I'm going out of town for a few days, and I think it'd be best if Barry spent that time at your place.”

Cisco eyed him suspiciously. “You're not in trouble with the mafia or anything? Should I be expecting a hitman?”

“No, Cisco,” Barry said, shaking his head with a smile. “I'm just… going through some things” he rolled the words on his tongue as he spoke them, “and we think it'd be best if I stayed with you for a little, so I won't be alone.”

“What sort of things?” Cisco questioned, stepping closer to Barry and running his eyes over his friend's form. Was he hurt? Not eating enough?

Len nudged Barry, encouragingly. It was best to go ahead and get it out now. At least Len was there with him.

Taking a breath, he stated, “I have some OCD, and it can get a bit unpleasant?” Barry's hand found Len's free one and clung to it. “I have panic attacks when it gets bad.”

Barry pretended not to see the sympathetic confusion that flashed around Cisco's face. He didn't want to think about it, but Len seemed to glare at Cisco, daring, before she squeezed Barry's hand gently.

Taking a breath, he continued, “It's not terrible, but I like clean things. That's.. basically my OCD.”

Cisco slowly nodded as if pieces of a puzzle suddenly made sense. “The soap...”

Len quirked an eyebrow. It seems like the scientist hadn't been completely oblivious to Barry's struggles. He didn't like that Ramon hadn't said anything though. Barry, however, inclined his head in agreement.

Cisco sighed. “So you want to stay with me while Cold's off stealing from the rich?”

Snorting, Len said, “I'm not off to steal anything. Although if I were to steal anything it would be from the rich,” Len admitted in an afterthought. Rich people had the stuff worth stealing after all.

“Will he be okay?” Cisco questioned Len before turning to Barry. _“Will_ you be okay?”

Barry shrugged. “I can handle it, I think.” Cisco didn't seem too convinced, but he kept his thoughts to himself.

  


Later Barry found himself in front of Cisco's place, his duffle in hand. “Are you sure I can't just stay alone?”

Len frowned, his eyes catching Barry's nervous fidgets and the way his lover tensed. “We both agreed that you'd be less lonely staying with Cisco, and he can be there for you when I can't if you have a panic attack,” he reminded Barry gently.

“I know… I just… I've never told anyone about my OCD,” _and I'm terrified he'll think I'm a freak “_ and I- He's not you, Len,” Barry stumbled over his words.

“Scarlet.” Len cupped Barry's cheeks in his hands and rested his forehead on Barry's. “I know you're worried, but he's your friend. Having OCD isn't going to change that. You're safe,” he murmured softly.

Barry let out a breath. Of course he was. It was Cisco – his friend. Things would be fine, he hoped.

“If you need anything… Call me,” Len urged. He'd drop anything and everything to run to his Scarlet's side. “Promise me, Scarlet.”

When Barry nodded, he pressed his lips against Barry's, sliding his arms around his lover's torso and hugging him tightly against him. Jeans slid against jeans, and Len could feel the heat through Barry's shirt. He didn't want to let go, but he forced himself to take a step back.

“I love you.”

Barry smiled at him, cheeks flushed. “I love you too, Len. Be careful, okay?”

Len grinned. “Always am, Scarlet.”

Barry watched as Len drove away, heart twinging. He stood there until Len's car disappeared into the distance. Turning, he examined Cisco's place. “Come on, Barry. Everything'll be fine,” he told himself as he lugged his duffle to the door. 'It will be fine.'

  


Turns out things went relatively well for the first couple of days. Barry and Cisco watched _Doctor Who,_ debated about scientific theories, and played games to decide who was getting to pick that night's dinner (Barry totally saw every move coming, but he let Cisco win sometimes).

Not to say it wasn't awkward sometimes, especially when Barry's OCD acted up. He got raw meat juice on his hands when he was cooking and ended up spending ten minutes washing his hands in the bathroom. He even washed them with rubbing alcohol to make sure any germs were gone. Cisco had to keep an eye on the chicken to make sure it wasn't going to burn while he was busy. Barry's only grateful he didn't say anything.

He trudged through Cisco's house in his travel slippers that Len had gotten for him recently. They had scientific equations and instruments on the outside. Barry thought they were awesome.

“My floor's not dirty, you know,” Cisco had remarked when he saw Barry slip them on.

Barry had frozen, slowly replying, “I know. I just like them.” Which was not a lie, but he wasn't about to tell Cisco that he couldn't be sure his floor was clean. He wasn't there when it had last been cleaned, so he couldn't take Cisco's word for it. Germs, dirt, and dust hid in plain sight in carpets. Hey, carpets are hard to clean.

Still… despite Barry's OCD, they managed to have fun together with Barry calling Len every night and messaging him throughout the day. He patrolled regularly, telling Len whenever something new happened while he was out, but overall things were good. At least, they were for four days.

On the fifth day of Len being gone, Barry got a call from Oliver, asking for an extra hand in the field. He said it was to stop a new crime family from settling in, and to Barry that was a good enough reason to go. He knew what mobs were capable of. His job as a CSI guaranteed that.

Caitlin had to do some work at the Labs, and had plans to get her apartment remodeled, so it was just Cisco and Barry. Honestly though, they could handle it. It wasn't like Barry planned on getting roughed up in a fight with a new meta.

Things actually moved along. Barry spent his night chasing down mobsters and letting Arrow discourage them from moving into Star. He also might've enjoyed offhandedly mentioning that anyone not willing to leave Star would end up in jail faster than they could blink.

For one night, they effectively stopped a new influx of criminals into Star, which was good because Barry wasn't sure that Star needed anymore. He's sure that Arrow has enough on his plate, though sometimes he wants to be like “At least you didn't have a meta spitting acid at you yesterday”, but whatever.

Needless to say, he's tired when he finishes pulling the plug on a new influx of mobsters into Star. There's only so much guns and explicit language that he can take. That, and the cheap booze they had stashed on their person smelled terrible. The smell, however, doesn't stop him from envying one lucky son of a gun his capability to get drunk enough to smell like it. Sometimes he wishes he could hold a buzz for longer than a few seconds.

“Welcome back, Quick Feet,” Felicity says as he flashes in, leaning with her body to stop papers from flying into the air.

“Thanks Felicity. Is Oliver back yet?” She gathers a few fallen papers and jerks her head towards the training room.

“Cisco asked him about some self-defense techniques. Something about making sure that you had enough mobility?” Felicity trails off, curiously.

Barry groans. Oliver never fails to kick his ass when it comes to training. He may not be as fast, but when it's a no powers game, Barry has no chance. Cisco is going to be sore later.

He mutters a 'thanks' to the blonde tech and saunters over to the other room, pulling his cowl back so the cool air can run over his warm cheeks.

It's a funny sight that he sees when he enters the training room – Cisco “bitching” at Oliver about twisting something in his leg. “Damn, man. I thought you were going to go easy on me,” Cisco groans, getting up from the mat.

Oliver smirks, amused. “I did.”

Cisco glares at him as much as possible, but it only makes Oliver raise an eyebrow. Obviously Cisco's glare isn't as… fine tuned as Oliver's.

Barry snorts at the sight of Cisco trying to glare at Oliver. It's kind of silly for him to laugh, because no one can measure up to the Green Arrow. It doesn't mean he can't enjoy watching Cisco try to top Oliver.

“Don't you start, Barry. You get your ass handed to you too,” Cisco snarks, teasing.

Barry can't help but curl his lips and retort, “Yeah, but I've actually taken him down a few times.”

Oliver gives him a look, and Barry falters. “Once or twice,” he sighs. At least Oliver looks satisfied with his correction. Cisco just laughs as Oliver pulls him to his feet.

“Hand me that towel, would you Barry?” Oliver requests, removing his wrist braces.

Barry's gaze slowly falls upon a towel that looks damp, hanging off the edge of a stool. He eyes it with caution, taking in its damp spotted appearance. He knows what it is. He's seen it. Sweat towel… A shiver runs down his spine. It feels like an itch from his shoulders to his fingertips, but it's just a minor annoyance. He's feeling okay, relatively. He can always wash his hands later.

Just as he goes to pick it up, he hears Cisco. “Oliver! You can't ask something like that of Barry.”

Barry freezes, hand outstretched and still. It's odd how the sounds of Oliver and Cisco's voices appear to echo throughout the room, drowning out any other noise.

“What do you mean?” Oliver questions, most certainly frowning by the sound of his voice.

“I mean that Barry doesn't touch dirty things, don't you know?”

“He 'doesn't touch dirty things'?” Oliver repeats, questioning, curious.

“Yeah, he's got this _thing,”_ Cisco explains, and Barry can't look at them. He doesn't even make a move.

_He's got this **thing.**_

“What's Cisco talking about, Barry?” Oliver inquires, voice oddly soft, gentle.

Barry blinks, thoughts racing a thousand miles  then go quiet. He pulls his hand back, letting it fall to his side as he straightens up. Swallowing, he brings his eyes up and meets Oliver's stiffly. “It's nothing serious, Oliver,” he replies firmly.

Oliver's eyes narrow as if he thinks Barry's lying.

“It's not nothing, Barry. It's something,” Cisco insists, seemingly ignorant of the tense stature of Barry's form.

It's probably teasing, but to Barry it hits hard. “It's not your problem, Cisco. It's mine,” Barry bites out coldly.

“For shit's sake, it's just dirt, Barry,” Cisco blurts out, nervously fidgeting.

“I know that!” Barry snaps, angrily lashing out. He _does._ Knowing and understanding are different though. He's tried to stop. He's tried to accept it, but… 'It doesn't work…' 

Oliver seems to be observing Barry, searching and logging Barry's every move, and he just can't take it.

Barry glares at Cisco, glares at Oliver even. He doesn't want to give his friend the chance to voice any “concerns” of his. “I'm done,” Barry says, flinging his hands in the air. “Done.”

Closing his eyes for a moment, he finds himself back in the apartment he shares with Len, back home. His suit feels sticky, clinging to his form as if the sweat were trying to swallow him whole, as if every speck of grime were weighing him down. _And Len's not here._

Sobs clawing their way from his throat, he rips the suit off as soon as he can. His fingers tear at the material before he throws it onto the couch.

Instantly, he realizes what he's done and flashes the dirty suit off the clean couch and into the dirty clothes pile with a harsh, painful sob. “Stupid, stupid, stupid...” Barry repeats, tears running down his cheeks as his nearly bare form chills in the air.

He can't relax, body tense as he remembers how he needs a shower. He won't be able to relax until then. It feels like Cisco and Oliver's words follow him into the bathroom as he strips and finds his way into the shower. He scrubs and scrubs, uses so much soap he knows he'll need to buy more before Len comes back.

When he feels clean enough, he steps out, towel wrapped around him. He feels a bit better, ignoring the ringing of his phone he'd discarded earlier. It's  an annoyance. He's not up to talking to anyone and lets it ring.

Their room is cold, bare. The warmth he associated with Len is gone, because Len isn't there. Len is miles and miles away, and Barry's… alone.

Finally the ringing of his phone grows to be too annoying and he opens a message with irritation.

Cisco:  _ Dude, was it something I said? _

“Was it something I said?” Barry repeats, stunned. Why didn't Cisco understand? Why!? Anger bubbles up again and he types back: _Whatever, Cisco._ _Don't call me. I'll call you. Later._ He ignores any texts after that, curling up in Len's blue pjs that he  has to fix around his body to keep from slipping off.

In Len's pjs, he feels a little warmer, a little less alone, but it doesn't change what happened today. It doesn't change what Cisco said or what Oliver's probably thinking. It doesn't bring Len back to him.

Barry's alone. He pulls out his phone and writes a new text:  _ Maybe you were wrong. I am a freak. _ His eyes water as he sends the message and throws the phone away from him. Under the cover of his blankets, he cries feeling both relieved and ashamed that he can't help but focus on the fact that he's clean.

'I am a freak…' 

**Author's Note:**

> So... ending it like that means I'm going to need a third part. Maybe a fourth? However long it goes, I guess.
> 
> I'm not sure how this part ended, but hopefully it's okay? Let me know how you like it, if you can.
> 
> Thanks for reading~
> 
> tumblr: tabihe


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